


Criminal Use of Caffeine

by TedraKitty



Series: Multifandom Ficlets [2]
Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Blood and Injury, Declarations Of Love, Hallucinations, Hallucinogens, Hurt/Comfort, I'm Bad At Tagging, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Love Confessions, M/M, Mutual Pining, Nightmares, Not Canon Compliant, Pining, Pining Aaron Hotchner, Pining Spencer, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-11
Updated: 2020-03-11
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:07:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23102947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TedraKitty/pseuds/TedraKitty
Summary: Hotch just wanted to stop dreaming of his twice-damned father. Was that too much to ask for? Whatever. A little less sleep, and maybe some more caffeine would keep him going -- and away from dreaming.
Relationships: Aaron Hotchner/Spencer Reid
Series: Multifandom Ficlets [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1660549
Comments: 6
Kudos: 72





	Criminal Use of Caffeine

Aaron knew, objectively, that he couldn’t avoid sleep forever. He was aware of the risks, but damned if he wasn’t going to  _ try  _ staying awake if it meant he wouldn’t see that asshole again. He hated feeling so weak, so afraid. Hearing him again and again, whispering in his head, like a parasite, was not going to help him stay focused. Coffee; that was what worked. Coffee, and caffeine shots bought from the nearest corner store. He had caffeine gum too didn’t he? 5-hour energy drinks, and RedBull, and what was he doing just now? 

He dropped the pants he held, and wandered to the kitchen. Hands shaking, he leaned against the counter. Finally, he stood, determined to keep his Dad -- no, his Father; his Biological Bastard -- out of his mind. He just wanted to be alone in his head again. 

Putting thought to action, he popped a fifth (sixth?) piece of caffeine gum in his mouth to keep up his energy while he mixed. He started with the expresso, opening the small caffeine shot cups and dumping them in. Next was the 5hour. It made the coffee taste like shit, and he was not too fond of the jitters he got when it was wearing off, but he didn’t want to sleep either. 

He shook his head again, trying to focus, and grabbed another couple of pieces of the caffeine gum from the overfilled candy dish. He threw the gum in his mouth and chewed intently, hoping to get the rush of caffeine going faster. Feeling it take effect, he dumped the RedBull in too. He chugged the resulting mixture without bothering to try to mix the noxious crap. It would taste bad enough. He finished it off, wiping his mouth and moving to set the cup on the counter. “You know that won’t work.” 

_ Crash _ . The sound of broken glass crunching under his bare feet was eerily familiar. He knew he should step carefully, but it couldn’t be real. He couldn't be back. He  _ died _ . They called it a heart attack, but Aaron knew better. His brother would never have to deal with the soured smell of whiskey breathed in his face. He’d never have to explain the smell that clung to his clothes, reeking of cheap cigarettes because dear ol’ dad needed to smoke after he’d had a few. Aaron had taken care of it. He’d been a good big brother just like his mom asked. He’d protected his brother. He couldn’t be back, he just couldn’t. 

He could feel the blood - his blood - slicking his steps. Then it hit him. The smell -- he knew that smell. He stopped it, that smell. Soured and hateful; ashy, coating his tongue. He looked down, noticing the coppery undertone of the stench. It must have been a deep cut to pool that quickly. 

The cup. He liked that cup. Spencer gave him that cup. He should clean up this mess. His head felt vaguely disconnected. Why did he think he -- “You always were a lazy child. You need to clean that up before your boy toy gets home. You wouldn’t want him to cut up those pretty feet.” He could hear the sneer. He hated that tone. How much caffeine was that? It wasn’t possible. What was he going to do? He slowly turned, facing the man he was trying to avoid. 

“You’re dead,” he croaked, heart hammering in his chest. He hated this feeling, the dread that washed down his spine. He felt like he was 15 again. Why couldn’t he calm down!? He peered closer at the hallucination in front of him. “You aren’t real,” he stated, “I can see through you. You aren’t real. I’m hallucinating.” 

“You wish m’boy. I’m back. And there’s nothing you can do about it.” 

He couldn’t think. He was so tired. Maybe another caffeine gum would help. He twisted, reaching for the bowl. The nausea stopped him. He pressed back against the counter, hoping to stave it off. His heart was racing. He couldn’t think. He reached shakily for another cup. When did they get such heavy cups? It wasn’t supposed to be so heavy. 

His hand jerked when he filled the cup with tap water, sloshing some over the edge. Sipping slowly, he was nearly overcome with a wave of weakness. He carefully set the cup down, mindful of the counter’s edge. Black spots dotted the edges of his vision. He couldn’t think. There was something he should do. Spencer. Spencer would make it better. He tried to pull his phone out of his pajama pocket, but the dizziness was so awful. Why couldn’t he think? Maybe another piece of gum would help. He reached for another piece. The door swung open, banging against the wall, and he jumped, startled. His feet flew out from beneath him, landing him on his ass, “OW! Fuck!” The glass felt like it was impaling him. 

Spencer, his darling, his lovely one, poked his head around the corner. Seeing Aaron sprawled across the kitchen floor, he bolted over to help, passing right through the glaring asshole that was definitely not haunting him. “You’re bleeding!” Reid, perfect, sweet, lovely Spencer. He was so helpful. That’s why he loved him so much. He was always so prepared. “I need an ambulance sent to—” That’s what he forgot to do! 

“Reid.” He couldn’t think. 

“Spencer.” He was supposed to tell him.

“Sp’ncer. ‘uch a pretty name.” He could see the flush crawling up his neck, that beautiful, perfect neck.

“Sp’nc’r” he slurred. “N’d ta tell ‘ou.” His rear felt like it was on fire, ripping apart.

“P’n’c’r” he was jostled, the slick feel of his blood making him feel nauseated again. 

“Stay with me. Hotch. Hotch. Come on. Dammit, open your eyes! Crap — I’m sorry.” The sharp sound of flesh hitting flesh was jarring. The pain blooming across his jaw, even more so. 

“Ow.” Why was he? “You hi’ me? Sp’n’cer, ‘ove ‘ou don’ hi’ me no more.”

“Goddammit I don’t care what you have to do get your asses over here!” Spencer was screaming. Why was he screaming? It was okay now, he’d told him. 

Beep. 

Beep.

Beep.

Beep. 

“Dammit, Hotch. You can’t do this to me. You can hear me. I know you can hear me. I need you to wake up. I need to tell you. You can’t do this to me. Dammit. Dammit dammit.” A soft thump, followed by muffled sobs was too much. The sounds of Spencer crying dragged him up, he couldn’t stand it. He was making Spencer cry. “Sp’n’cer. Pl’s. Pl’s don’ cry.” His head. He knew this feeling.

Beep.

Beep.

Beep beep.

Beep beep.

Beep beep beep beep. 

Beep beepbeepbeep beepbeep.

“Sir. Sir. If you’re going to disturb the patient, you will have to leave. Sir, I don’t care what kinds of strings you pulled. I don’t care what badge you have, you can glare all you like. I will personally kick your scrawny ass out of here if you don’t stop riling him up. Look, I know you care about him. Anyone with eyes can see that. If you keep it up, he’ll split his stitches again, and the on-call may not pull him back from the edge this time.” 

Spencer hung his head, defeated. “Sorry ma’am. Sir? Sir.” I just don’t want to lose him again. He was…” there was an audible sniff. 

“Sp’n’c’r” Aaron croaked, “w’ter. Pl’s. ‘m okay. Don’ cry.” Cool hands touched his wrist, taking his pulse. Efficiently checking his vitals, the nurse left with a sharp nod at Spencer. Holding the cup and carefully maneuvering the straw between Hotch’s chapped lips, he made sure his friend was not drinking too fast. 

“Hotch. Aaron. We almost lost you. You scared me. Did you mean it? I know, we’ll have to talk again later, but I need to know. Do you even remember? The house was so full of hallucinogens you were probably seeing purple dragons in the kitchen. Do you remember? Hotch. Please. Tell me. I love you, and I need to hear.” 

Aaron remembered. He knew. He was bursting to say it. What if - what if he wasn’t enough? What if he was just like his father? What if he messed this up too, like Haley, like everything else in his life? Squaring his jaw, he took a leap. He knew. He was sure. 

“Love you, Spencer.” 

**Author's Note:**

> For the prompts Hotch's dad and Ghost
> 
> [angst_buritto](https://archiveofourown.org/users/angst_buritto/works) gave out a prompt in our [WriterBuddies](https://discord.gg/wXxPh3Y) Discord server.


End file.
